About Time
by The Duckster
Summary: Ron and Hermione on their walk back from Dumbledores office to Gryffindor tower. They can really only make it so far before they are presented with distractions of an un-ignorable sort


Author's note: Please don't review asking for an update on 'the look out' please please please, that just annoys me. There is an explanation in my profile as to that situation and I ask that you read that if you have any questions. I wrote this to get back into the mood of writing. It's not beta'd though I'm sure I'll update as I catch mistakes. Just wanted to post something Ron and Hermione related.

About Time

She didn't notice it happen, so tired and distracted as she was but when she finally took notice she stopped in her tracks. The body attached to the hand entwined with hers halted only moments later. She stared at him, feeling the confusion contorted on her face. Her focus was broken by a soft chuckle coming from her other best friend now a few meters in front of them.

"About bloody time," he muttered under his breath and continued on his way to Gryffindor tower.

She waited until footfalls were lost in the immensity of the castle before venturing to speak. As she waited he smiled and stepped closer to her; interlocking their fingers in a slightly awkward movement. She was mesmerized by his actions; unable to keep from watching the corner of his mouth turn upward in a half smile.

"So…" Hermione let her voice trail off; unable to form words for the chaos her tentative heat was wading through.

"So," he answered back. He stepped closer to her and as he did she watched as he drew a small bit of his lower lip into his mouth causing her parched lips to arc into a small smile. 'Ron's nervous' she concluded and it sent her heart beating into over drive. She licked her lip unconsciously and was startled by the taste of soot. She felt her lips curve upward more as the taste brought more reality to mind.

"It's all done." Her voice sounded weak and raspy, but her grin continued to beam brightly across her face. "I mean it's really all over." She watched as his smile widened, mesmerized by his other hand he was moving toward her free hand. Her heart skipped a beat or two as he entwined their other hand standing so close now that she could feel his breath move the hairs around her face, when she looked up she met his startlingly blue eyes and the intensity of his gaze cowered her a little.

"Yes it is." Was all he vocalized but she followed his gaze back down to their melded hands resting halfway between their bodies.

The corridor around them was silent, missing was the chatter of portraits, the clicking and rustling of armor shuffling their heavy boots. All the things that kept the castle from ever letting you feel totally alone were completely gone and she felt the silence pounding loudly in her ears. She brought her gaze back up to meet his and she found herself unable to speak.

"Hermione," he whispered her name softly into the surrounding stillness. She didn't respond, unwilling or unable to break the trace he held her in. "I promised myself a thousand times over," he stopped speaking only to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. She felt her body lean into his of its own accord; not that she minded, but her body had needed no instructions from her muddled brain, it knew what it wanted and when the strongest desire her body had was this close there was no decision to be made, it would move closer.

"that I wouldn't waste another moment."He kept his lips so close to her she felt them moving as he spoke. He press his lips to her skin again now just above her temple, and she felt her head tipping back to allow him better access.

"Waste?" she whispered turning the single word into a question. She found I difficult to swallow now and she closed her eyes to utter a silent prayer she wasn't dreaming.

"Yes waste," he confirmed. He slipped her left hand into the entwined mess of their other hands before moving his now freed hand slowly up her arm. "Because there have been a thousand times I should have said something," as his hand reached beyond her elbow she felt herself shutter as a chill ran down her body. She let out a deep breath she didn't realize she'd held in.

"Each time I sat working up the courage to tell you how I feel was a waste of time." She felt lips upon her cheekbone and her body pressed upward into him, craving more contact. His hand was on her shoulder and she felt her head tip to one side allowing both his kisses and his touch clear access.

"How you feel?" she repeated again turning this into a question. She felt the chuckle more than heard it. The thundering heartbeats in her ears were so loud now she momentarily wondered if she'd gone deaf during the battle without realizing it.

"I love you," he uttered clearly into her ear that she no longer wondered if she was only deaf but also perhaps insane. This was simply impossible.

"You love me?" It seemed all she could do was repeat his words back to him, so strange they seemed.

"I love you." His hand moved to her throat and she felt goose bumps emerging all along the left side of her body. She felt his lips pressing again to her skin and she felt as though she was swimming in a dizzying pool of elated ecstasy.

"You love me." She reconfirmed his words is a hushed whispered that resembled a prayer. Her body tingled as he caressed his thumb along her jaw bone.

"Hermione." She answered with a low hum that resembled more of a moan than a response. "That kiss before…" he trailed off leaving another kiss on her cheek bone.

"That kiss," and she was lost in a memory so vivid she almost lost her balance as she fell into the remembered bliss. Lips again, now pressed into the apple of her cheek. Fingers caressing the sensitive curve of her neck then shifting to her tangled and matted hair, a thumb drawing lazy circles just behind her ear. Another kiss, just a centimeter lower than before.

The hand resting on top of the entwined pair found its own way to his chest; barely noticing the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm. Was that his heart thundering or hers?

"Hermione," his voice a plea before pressing another kiss to the soft flesh of her cheek. She hummed again in response. "Please Hermione." What was he asking for she wondered. And how could he expect her to think when he was touching her like this.

"Ron." She whispered her own words for the first time since he'd begun his assault on her senses. Did he know how good he smelled, beneath the smell of ash and smoke she could smell him; that inexplicable, indefinable smell that was simply Ron. She tentatively opened her eyes and for the first time she could see the crease of worry marring his forehead. She moved her hand to his neck, mimicking his careful ministrations.

"I love you." He said again, more urgency in his voice. How silly of him she mused. To be concerned with words when she was feelings so overwhelmed by her senses.

"I love you." She whispered back and she felt a bubble of giddiness ripple through her as she released her most closely guarded secret from her lips.

"About bloody time!" she heard him say before his lips press against hers. Both of their lips were dry and she tasted soot when she took in a deep breath.

"Language Ron," she chided though only reflexively and she felt him grin as his lips moved tentatively against hers. If she could have expected anything to happen it would have been the exact opposite than what did happen. She thought she would be lost and unable to carry coherent thoughts worse than before but his kiss awoke her. She found herself cataloging every move he made and every sensation it caused.

He dropped their entwined hands and slid his hand boldly around her waist. There was a hole in her shirt from who knows what but she felt the warmth of his skin burning against her. As soon as he dropped her hand she felt it following the same path the other had taken to his neck and as she felt the soft wet fluttering of his tongue on her lower lip she felt his groan as she roughly gripped the hair at the base of his neck.

She parted her lips at the beckoning of his inviting mouth and was startled by his gentle pressure drawing her plump lower lip between them. Massaging it tantalizingly with his soft tongue as he pulled his lips down it slowly, releasing it with what would have been so comical a loud pop that she would have laughed at had it not felt so overwhelmingly fantastic.

Time slowed to a stop as she tasted her now juicy lip and found the lingering presence of something new. Before she could finish the smile forming once again his lips were on her; hungrier and more urgent than before. She felt her back being pulled towards his body; pulled flush against his torso with a manic fervor she found blissfully disorienting. The hand entwined in the tangled mess at the base of her spine clung to her, clutching her at as though desperate not to let her escape.

Not that she was going anywhere. Except that she was, she found herself being pushed backwards. His body getting closer not farther away as she moves until her back was hard-pressed into the cold uneven stone of the wall. It was as though the moment she was firmly against the wall, trapped and unable to leave Ron felt confident enough to move his lips away from their adoring attention to her lips and she found his slow and measured ministrations meandering down her jaw line.

She gasped for air now that her air way was unhindered and she couldn't fight the feeling that she'd never be able to fill her lungs to satisfaction again. Her breath hitched and caught as he focused on a particularly sensitive portion of her throat that made her grateful for the shift of their position so she didn't need to rely on her own strength to keep her standing.

As he continued his methodical attentions that caused her endless sensations of un-measureable pleasure she felt the hand trapped between the wall and her body wriggle free and move to the base of her rib cage. She was in blissful agony. Her mind screamed for his hand to move, but where and how she wasn't sure. Upward to cup her aching breast, now touting a nipple so taught from her body's increased sensations that it called out to for attention? Or beneath her shirt to feel his warm hands burning her flesh once again with his touch?

She got neither as lips once again engulfed her own; she felt both his hands caressing the skin on either side of her jaw bone. Hermione wanted, she wanted more contact, she wanted less distance between them, wanted to feel him next to her. She slid her hands down from his neck, down his side to the base of Ron's torso. She could feel scorch marks and rips along his shirt as she moved and for a moment tried to recall how long it had been since they'd last changed clothes.

Fingers slipped beneath the soft cotton of his tattered shirt and her intrusive presence was met by a low moan from Ron. She guided her fingertips along the skin of his lean muscled back, lifting his shirt with her as she moved upward. She could feel the bunching fabric between their bodies as it both tried to move with him as well as stay between their compressed bodies. Her own shirt began to shift upward with its ascent and she felt a delightful cool breeze prickling at her over heated skin.

To her surprise, when his shirt was half way up his torso he pulled away from her. She looked at him tentatively; wondering if she'd gone too far too fast. When their eyes met a broad smile chased away all her fear and she couldn't help but chuckle at his own silly grin. He deftly grabbed the uneven hem of his gray and tattered shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, dropping it haphazardly to the floor.

His body was skinny form their months on the run. The skin around his collar bone more sunken than it should have been; she was probably just as gangly as his ever too tall and too lean body. It still took her breath away to look at him. This was Ron, her Ron. Awkward, ever frustrating, first love Ron. She'd played this scene over and over in her head. Never had it included clumps of debris in his hair, or streaks of grime caked across his cheek and neck but there they were. Ron and Hermione; him standing in front of her literally bearing himself to her.

He had told her he loved her and kissed her more urgently and more passionately than any fantasy or day dream charm could compete with. Elation soared through her as she reminded herself this was real. They were real.

She was brought out of her revelry when he touched his hand tentatively to her chin, cupping it nervously in his overly large hands. Hermione felt her breath falter again, unsure if her heart could sustain the onslaught of overwhelming emotions. She rested her head against the wall behind her; unsure of what to do with herself, her hands fell clumsily to his hips, resting her thumbs in the waistband of his denims.

He closed his eyes as a shutter passed through him as her fingertips grazed the skin of his back once again. Timidly she bit her lower lip; unsure of every move she made.

"Hermione," he whispered breathlessly before running his thumb along her lips. "Absolutely beautiful." He murmured in a way that seemed more to himself then to her. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks from embarrassment at his words. She looked down; unable to meet his gaze as he studied her.

He placed his lips against hers slowly, more softly than ever before, as though she would crumble to dust if he touched her too much. She smiled as he lifted his lips from hers again, marveling again as his scent washed over her. She closed her eyes as she took it all in again, and as she did so his thumb trailed slowly down the sensitive skin beneath her chin.

His movements were agony in their slowness, she both wished he would speed up and continue at his own pace at the same time. He stopped his descent as reached her collar bone and he ran his fingers along it, torturing her with more pleasure than she'd ever experienced. She wanted more, she wanted his hand to move, his lips to caress her, his presence to engulf her entirely. He brought his other hand down so that both sets of fingers danced along her sensitive skin; parting the collar of her shirt just enough to feel his warm breath beating down on her.

"Please," she uttered with her eyes still closed, unable to meet his gaze as she begged for more of him. His right hand slowly moved along the opening of her collar, two buttons at the top undone so that as he moved it sent more goose bumps cropping up along her skin. She felt her nipple tighten again in anticipation. But when he reached the point of V shape of her shirt opening he hesitated. Holding his fingers on top of the button keeping her tattered shirt closed.

"Please," she moaned again, this time moving her hand upward across his lower back settling on his rib, thinking back to the moment when his hand had rested on her there and all she could think of was her plea for his hands to seek out more.

She could hear his slow raged breathing hitch as she did this and felt a small moment of triumph at her own ability to invoke this small reaction from him. She opened her eyes a small bit; hesitant to meet his gaze. She need not have worried for his eyes were focused on the smooth round button she could feel his fingers against. A quick movement of his hand and suddenly she felt more cool air against her skin; tightening the skin across her breasts even further. It began to ache from the long standing condition or erect arousal.

Her eye studied Ron's face as she felt the fingers of his hand creeping slowly down between the slope of her rounded breasts. He was unaware of her scrutiny as he studied her. She fought down a laugh as his head tilted to one side as he moved his other hand downward, this time pushing aside the fabric blocking his view and climbing his fingertips along the plump curve of her swelling breast.

Her breath hitched and this seemed to break Ron out of his reverent worship. He looked up her, eyes wide as though he done something wrong and she released her breath slowly as their eyes studied one another. She suddenly felt brazen in her plea with him to touch her; how bold of her to insist he undress her. Then trepidation dissipated as quickly as it had come when his fingers reached the next button on her shirt and though his cheeks flared a bright red as he did so he didn't break her nervous gaze.

There was no denying it; she was turned on. Not that she could have fought off the allegation earlier but the sudden rising of his audacious attitude about disrobing her struck her in a way she could not quantify. His blatant desire to see her and boldly take appropriate action fired her up in a way she wouldn't have believed possible.

She was exposed to him now. The ragged bra she'd hand washed poorly along with one other over the past several months was likely not the most alluring site. She knew the color was graying and faded. The care and maintenance of her delicates hadn't been on her list of important things to learn before they left. She blushed as she imaged her dirt streaked skin and pathetic excuse for lingerie in this first exposure to him. She couldn't help turning away her head as waves of humiliation washed over her.

Why had any part of her wanted this mortification? The disgrace of being seen in such a state washed over her and for a moment she wished she'd just kept walking when she noticed his hand hold hers on their walk back to their former dormitory.

She was brought back to the moment when Ron undid another button. She chanced a glance and saw his features once again formed into a state of determined study as he looked at her. Relieve ebbed in as she saw no disgust or revulsion in his adoring gaze. He didn't seem to care the particular state of her undress; as long as he got to do the undressing.

His fingers grazed her belly button before undoing the last round button keeping her shirt hanging across the front of her body. When he was done it lay limply along her sides, exposing her entire midriff and torso to his gaze. He flattened his palm against her stomach and she delighted in the smile that turned up his lips. His round eyes reminded her of the first time they'd gone into Honeydukes sweetshop in third year.

The thumb of his right hand ran along the lower curve of her bra encase breast. He watched his own hand as it repeated the movement several times. She looked down but was unable to see what he was doing exactly. Thought she could feel it, she wanted to see his hand on me. With each swipe of his thumb he moved up higher on the rounded mound until at last he hit what had been aching for him to touch. A shock rocked through her body as he flicked the protruding nub poking predominately against the worn fabric.

Hermione gasped again, unable to keep her body silent to his caress. She watched as he smiled again before pinching it between his thumb and forefinger causing her hips to buck against his. She closed her eyes again and rested her head against the wall again unable to focus on anything but his actions.

She felt his un-busy hand slipping her back and the wall; pulling her towards him and away from the wall. He had done it before she'd really caught on to his plan and suddenly her bra fell slack and no longer hugged tightly around her. She felt shock rush through her but was too soon distracted by his adept hand sliding along her skin back towards the front along her rib cage. She couldn't have imagined the sensation that washed over at the contact there but as he moved she felt her body ache with increased desire, fidgeting her hips against him in search of some relief she was unable to find.

It was Ron's turn for his breath to hitch and she found is face suddenly buried into the skin at her neck. Almost as if to hold her still she felt his arm reach around her and hold her waist in place against him. She felt him more than heard him whisper her name as he lapped and nibbled at the skin he was burrowing into. If this was an attempt to settle her body it wasn't a well thought out one, his protective hold on her, clutching her body against his in combination with his manic attentions to the skin at her collar bone and shoulder did anything but still her.

Reflexively she arched her back pressing her breast against his hand which seemed to reawaken him to his earlier actions there. He felt his rough fingers move beneath the now loose barrier from before and she gasped audibly as his hand cupped her, squeezing the whole curving mound in his oversize hands. Her attention was divided between the various sensations accosting her from various different locations and she found it disorienting to be unable to focus on one single action.

With a tremendous amount of effort on her part she pressed against his shoulders until there was a small distance between their torsos. He looked at her, his eyes dark and clouded with lust that sent her head reeling for a moment.

"Too much," she finally managed and she watched in horror as his face contorted in shame, his body pulling away from her. She panicked as she realized what he must have thought and quickly moved her arms to press his shoulders toward her. She blushed as how difficult it was to clarify. She knew what to say but found it difficult to get the words out now that her throat was so dry.

"Too much at once," she corrected and made sure to smile reassuringly when he looked at her tentatively. She stopped pressing against his shoulders and a small space opened up between them. She grabbed his elbow with her left hand and guided it back to its former position against her breast. His grin grew wide as she did this and she had to close her eyes and inhale a great gulp of air when his hand made contact with the skin of her again. "I've never done this before she said with a raspy low breath. I want to savor how you feel against me." She felt her cheeks growing hot as she said this but doing her best to ignore it.

He looked at her intensely and she almost whimpered as he pulled his hand away from the skin she had just insisted he cradle. She was started into silencing her protest as she watched him bring the thumb and forefinger he's tweaked her nipple with before into his mouth, he drew in between his lips and when he released it she was surprised by how attractive she found the action. A moment later she understood the purpose of it as he once again placed her nipple between the two digits and pressed them closed.

She almost cracked her head open against the wall, the thrust of her head backward was so forceful. Never before had she felt such a jolt rock through her body, and straight to her center deepening the building coil that rested with in her. He moved against and again; each time her body overwhelmed by the intensity of it. His thumb rubbed a circle across her hardened nub and she felt her whole body shudder as she exhaled deeply.

He repeated his action, varying the pressure and speed each time, and she repeated her full body convulsive exhale as he did so, gasping for breath in her helpless reaction to his movements. She gripped the skin of his back with her fingertips, unable to resist clinging to him to maintain some hold on reality.

"Sweet Merlin's pants!" she managed to gasp as he rewet his fingers.

"No kidding," muttered Ron as he restarted his movements. "I can't believe…" he trailed off and she felt his eyes on her as she responded to him again. At his words she suddenly felt self conscious.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked sheepishly, knowing he was more experienced in this sort of thing.

"Like hell, I don't think you have any idea, to touch you… it's just." Ron was unable to articulate exactly what he was trying to say but shut them both up with his lips crushing down on her. This kiss was more like the kisses he'd laid upon the skin of her throat earlier. Eager and it seemed as though he was unable to keep himself from touching her. He wasn't the slow methodical kisser from before but a man desperate for drink in the desert and she was his oasis. The hand on her breast kept up its earlier movements but she found herself unable to focus on that alone.

Never had she been kissed with such wild abandon, he licked her lips and sucked them into his mouth. Ravishing them in a similar manner to all the times she's watched him eat. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to chastise him to eat slower again if it meant risking the intensity of which he nibbled and pulled at her now swollen lips.

She could hear moans and garbled words coming from her lips but she couldn't focus on any of it; his hand resting on her waist had moved south and was treating her cheek like a piece of dough he had a particular vendetta against.

Hermione had often wondered how couples could stay glued together for such a long stretch of time. Surely one couldn't mentally stay interested in such a physical activity for too long a time period. Intellectual stimulation had to win out at some point of course. Hermione now knew she was wrong. She could not have told you how long the pair of them pressed squished into a wall in a dark corridor; there was no way to quantify time. No measuring by your heartbeats when it was thumping so erratically, in your chest; breaths too were uneven, going in both short bursts of panting feverishly and long slow gasps to steady yourself. All she knew was that she had no desire to stop. It didn't matter how long they had been awake, that they hadn't eaten a proper meal since the pub, exhaustion couldn't ebb at her when adrenaline pumped to readily through her system and how could she desire food when her body craved something completely new.

It was in one of the erratic moments where Ron's actions caused such a startled shock to her system that her eyes flew open purely as a reaction that she saw the hustling figure in a familiar tartan hat.

"Professor!" she gasped in shock at the unexpected site.

"Not what I'd been expecting exactly but not all that surprising of a fantasy given what a book worm you are." Ron muttered between nibbles along her jaw line.

"NO!" she pulled his face from her throat, a pange of unsatisfied lust roared through her as the air blew across her flushed skin. She forced him to look in the direction of the not halted figure. "Professor!"

Ron jumped backward in his startled amazement at the sudden realization that not only was Professor McGonagall there but from the direction she had been headed in must have walked right by them without the otherwise occupied pair taking any notice.

He didn't seem to notice that his sudden departure from Hermione left her shirt wide open and a bra hanging haphazardly from the thing strings around her shoulders. She folded her shirt over herself not bothering with the buttons just wanting to have some semblance of coverage.

"Professor McGonagall," Ron muttered to the floor. Their tall and stately professor had turned and was looking at them as though this was nothing more than a chance meeting between classes.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." She nodded her head to each of them respectively, as though not noticing anything about their unusual disheveled appearance.

"Professor, we were… uhm… just… I mean that we were…" Professor broke off Hermione's tangled mess of an excuse with the raising of her left hand as though signaling that she'd heard enough.

"Since neither you nor Mr. Weasley was enrolled for studies this year I feel no need for the formalities of calling me Professor." She stepped toward them but stopped before getting too close.

"After all you've done and what we've been through I feel it only appropriate you call me Minerva," and she smiled warmly at the pair reminding Hermione of a warm Aunt.

"Thank you Minerva." Hermione said, accepting the compliment she knew it was meant to be. Ron on the other hand snickered juvenilely and mutter under his breath 'Minerva.' As though unable to take the request seriously. She elbowed him in the ribs.

"We're sorry Minerva, we couldn't have… I mean it's such an open…" Hermione colored red again and looked down at the floor in mortification.

"Miss. Weasley," Minerva started but Hermione cut her off swiftly.

"Hermione, please, call me Hermione."

"Hermione, I don't have the slightest idea as to what you could be referring to. I was simply walking down a corridor when I was stopped by two former students." Hermione watched as a smirk crossed the careworn face of her favorite teacher. "I found nothing untoward or anything that needs apologizing for." She finished with a mastered air of indifference. She nodded again. "Now if you don't mind I really must be checking on any students remaining in Gryffindor tower.

"Of course Minerva," Hermione smiled sheepishly as she wrapped her shirt still tighter around herself.

Minerva turned and headed once again in the direction she'd started in. Without turning around though Hermione heard her call out in a carrying tone.

"Though I must add it's about bloody time."

Hermione laughed as she hid her face against Ron's warm chest.

"Yes that seems to be the consensus," Hermione muttered as she pulled away from Ron enough for him to grab his shirt and pull it back over his head, inside out, before he wrapped his arm around him and she leaned into his body as they began walking to their dormitories.


End file.
